The news of Goddard left Ramage strangely cold: for the moment he was more concerned with Sarah and getting the rest of the convoy round to London. He went down to his cabin. The packet obviously contained two or three letters, all inside a single sheet of thick paper folded and sealed with wax: the port admiral would not risk using a wafer, relying on gum. As he sat at his desk holding the packet, Ramage felt it was hardly necessary to break the seal and start reading: he could guess what they would say. This was the moment he stepped on the merry-go-round which was going to revolve for days, if not weeks.

He picked up the paper-knife, slid it under the seal, and opened the outer page which formed the envelope. He had been wrong in one respect: the first letter was a copy of one from the Admiralty to the port admiral, and after the usual opening, "By the Commissioners for executing the office of Lord High Admiral", it went on:

Whereas Sir James Bustard, Vice Admiral of the white and commander-in-chief of His Majesty's ships and vessels at Plymouth, hath transmitted to us a letter of the third of September last, from Captain William Shirley, commander of His Majesty's ship Jason, requesting that you, commander of His Majesty's ship Calypso, might be tried by a court martial for various matters falling under certain of the Articles of War, namely numbers XV, XVII, XIX, XX, XXII, and XXIII.

And whereas we think fit the said Captain Shirley's request should be complied with: we send you herewith his abovementioned letter, and do hereby require and direct you forthwith to assemble a court martial for the trial of the said Captain Lord Ramage, for the offences with which he stands charged, and to try him for the same accordingly.

Given under our hands the seventh day of September . . .

And there were the names of four members of the Board - only three were needed to sign such letters, so he should be flattered that a fourth should have been added. Was it significant that the First Lord, Earl St Vincent, was not among them? No, he was probably out of town that day, or there was a quorum of signatures without having to bother him. But Shirley had acted quickly to get his letter to London. How long did it take to get a letter to London by messenger? A week? Probably less.

He smoothed out the second letter and glanced at it: Admiral Bustard was merely telling him that he had received orders from the Admiralty concerning him (a copy was enclosed) and he had therefore given the requisite orders. He also enclosed a copy of Captain Shirley's letter, referred to by the Board. The deputy judge advocate appointed for the occasion, Admiral Bustard concluded, would be communicating with him.

The third letter had his father's crest on the seal and was brief: on the off-chance that Nicholas would call at Plymouth the Earl was writing to tell him about Sarah. Obviously his father knew that St Vincent had written to Barbados.

"We have no more news," the Earl wrote:

The Murex left the Fleet off Brest, and vanished. My own opinion is that she may have been dismasted or captured, and ended up in a French port to leeward, so Sarah will be a prisoner. Bonaparte regards civilians as combatants, so Sarah is probably a prisoner of war.

Your mother and I, and the Marquis, have done all we can to get news from France; St Vincent has been very understanding and pressure has been brought to bear on the French agent for the exchange of prisoners. I went to see him myself and am convinced he genuinely knows nothing.

Of Gianna - what a sad letter this is - we also have no news. Perhaps that is as well: we must prepare ourselves for the worst. We can be sure Bonaparte's men caught her, and he is a man without mercy.

The letter went on to give family news: Ramage's mother had spent most of the summer down at St Kew; the Marquis spent most of his time now in London, hoping for news of Sarah, and like the rest of the family eagerly awaiting Nicholas's return.

Ramage was just reading the final sentence when the Marine sentry outside the cabin door announced that the first lieutenant wished to see him, and Ramage called briefly: "Send him in."

Aitken, hat tucked under his arm, stood in front of Ramage's desk. "Another boat has come off from the shore and is heading for us, sir," he said, so lugubriously that quite unexpectedly it made Ramage feel cheerful.

"It'll be bringing a lieutenant - maybe even just a midshipman - with another letter for me, this time from the deputy judge advocate."

"The deputy judge advocate?" Aitken repeated, as though he might have misheard: in fact was sure he had.

"Yes - telling me the date of my trial, in which ship it will be held and asking for a list of my witnesses."

Aitken swallowed, and was obviously puzzled by Ramage's jocular manner. "So there's going to be a trial, sir?"

"My goodness yes! A mad captain and Rear-Admiral Goddard together in the same port are (for us) one of those unhappy coincidences, like a spark in a powder magazine. A bag of powder and a spark alone are each harmless, but put them together . . ."

"You don't seem very worried, sir," Aitken said, the relief showing on his face.

"I'm accused under -" he glanced at the Board's letter, "- under six of the Articles of War." He had read them out to his ship's company scores of times, as required by Admiralty Instructions, but he still had to recite them to himself by rote. "Only a few of them carry a mandatory death sentence."

Aitken said bitterly: "There's something wicked afoot when you're in more danger of death on board one of the King's ships than you ever were capturing the French frigates at Devil's Island, or rescuing those people from the renegades at Trinidade, or escaping the guillotine in France, or -"

"Aitken," Ramage said, dropping the usual "Mister" and indicating that the remark was man to man, not captain to first lieutenant, "we've set off on some adventures where our chances of survival were not very great. But I can't recall you ever standing there with a face as long as a yard of cold pump water saying: 'Sir, we're all doomed!'"He tried to give his voice the depth and emphasis of a Scottish cleric. "In fact, I always have the feeling that facing death cheers you up!"

"Ah, but there's a difference," Aitken said. "Then we went off knowing we all shared the risks. This time, you're on your own, sir. Every shot will be aimed at you alone."

There was a shout from on deck, and Aitken said: "If you'll excuse me sir, it sounds as though that boat has arrived."

The lieutenant on board had indeed brought another letter for Ramage and when Aitken brought it in Ramage told him to sit down for a few minutes.

Ramage then opened the letter - sealed this time by a wafer with the glue still wet - and nodded. "Yes, here's the deputy judge advocate. They aren't wasting much time!"

"But why is Captain Shirley charging you? You ought to be bringing him to trial!"

"He's senior, so he gets first whack!" Ramage grinned and then tapped the papers on his desk. "I haven't read his letter yet, but Their Lordships have sent me a copy of his complaint. I'll read it in a moment. Let's first see what the deputy judge advocate has to say."

The deputy judge advocate wrote in the stylized way laid down in the manuals:

The Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty having ordered Vice Admiral Sir James Bustard to assemble a court martial to try Captain the Lord Ramage, and it being intended that I shall officiate as deputy judge advocate upon the occasion at the said court martial, which is to be held on board the Salvador del Mundo at Plymouth on Monday next, at nine o'clock in the morning; I send you herewith a copy of the order for the trial on yourself [Ramage noted that the deputy judge advocate had forgotten to enclose it] and am to desire you will be pleased to transmit me a list of the officers and men belonging to the Calypso who are in this port, and of such persons, as you may think proper to call to give evidence in your favour, that they might be summoned to attend accordingly.